


Interlude XXII

by Cerdic519



Series: Elementary 221B [181]
Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Bacon, Destiel - Freeform, Gay Sex, Heaven, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Plans, relics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 16:16:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11627199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: The dynamic duo are back in Baker Street - but Upstairs, someone has a saintly problem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aely/gifts).



_[Begin narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes]_

Absence, they say, makes the heart grow fonder. It is true; the two months we spent away from Baker Street in the 'sanctuary' of the Bunker had been pleasant enough, but to return to the place had been wonderful, especially as our magnificent landlady marked my return with a bacon breakfast. I was still finishing it off as John was wandering around the room, presumably re-acquainting himself with all the furniture and fittings.

“I was thinking”, he said abstractedly, “how about we re-christen every room with sex.”

I looked down at my six remaining rashers, then looked piteously in his direction. I may even have accidentally quivered my lip.

“I shall be ready!" he grinned, taking off his jacket as he headed to my room. “Finish your bacon first!”

And that, reader, was why I loved him.

+~+~+

Yes, I did finish my bacon. Because I would need the energy!

_[End narration by Mr. Sherlock Holmes]_


	2. Chapter 2

“So just where is your body?”

Not, perhaps, the most common question to occur during a conversation. But then again, when a Supreme Being is talking to someone who has been dead for well over a millennium, perhaps more understandable than would normally have been the case. 

St. Jurmin sighed heavily.

“It seems that your angel – or the character that he currently inhabits in the redrawn timeline – is about to be called upon to find something”, he said. “There is a strong likelihood that he will encounter my mortal remains.”

God frowned.

“And you would be against that?” He asked. He would have thought that most saints would have jumped at the chance for renewed fame. 

The saint sighed again, and gestured to the screen. God duly obliged, and a picture of a small and rather cramped office appeared. In the centre of a crowded table, there was an ornate wooden box.

“Oh”, God said heavily. “That is not good.”

“Indeed”, the saint said. “Fortunately, I do have someone in the village who is in a position to help – if you will allow it, My Lord....”


End file.
